Paint Me Golden
by Helencrazy
Summary: Rachel Berry just wants to get over Finn Hudson. She meets underground rockstar, Jesse St. James, who teaches her that there might just be more to life than simply moving on and chasing dreams. Maybe other people can be worth chasing too. Or the one where Rachel meets Jesse and their lives do a complete 180 - multiple times. Rated M eventually. Jesse/Quinn/Rachel friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**Do people even read St. Berry fanfiction anymore? Is the Glee fandom dead? I don't know, don't care, don't mind. I just hope someone stumbles across this story and motivates me to finish it - and it's going to be a long one. Let's just say I have Jesse and Rachel's future planned out for like, the next 20 years. So! Leave some feedback and let me know if you like this, and if I should keep writing it (no point if no one reads it anyway and all that). Enjoy the story!**

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Rachel had never been to this part of town before, with good reason. The buildings were broken down, rot creeping through the walls and roofs caving in. If she did not know any better, she'd say it was abandoned. However, the blaring music and the sound of broken laughter proved otherwise. It echoed throughout the empty streets, slithering out from beyond broken windows and open doors. Glass crunched beneath her feet as she walked carefully, her brand new heels not exactly meant for this environment.

She looked to Quinn, walking quietly by her side. The blonde was bouncing with barely contained excitement, and Rachel had to remind herself that she was here for her. Well, for their friendship, anyway.

They had been getting better, ever since Finn dumped Rachel for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Their shared resentment for the boy lead to their initial bonding, but they slowly had grown to see that they did, in fact, have a few things in common. Both had great expectations concerning their futures, driven by ambition and passion. Both cared deeply about their studies and had even started helping each other out. Rachel enjoyed the way Quinn pushed her out of her comfort zone, while Quinn seemed to find it hilarious to do so.

That was what brought them here; approaching a bar that should have long since been closed down, but had instead become a space for the more "alternative" crowd in Lima. Quinn had first gone to the place when she had her rebellious phase, however, she hadn't stopped coming since. So while she had cleaned up, there was still some part of her that felt a disconnect from the clean, preppy persona she usually displayed. She had told Rachel as much, and the brunette had agreed to accompany her there, eager to connect with her friend and at the same time experience something new. She knew there would be live music, and that the artist was someone Quinn actually knew.

The music slapped Rachel in the face as they walked inside, and she had to take a second to compose herself. She felt extremely out of place, even though she had dressed according to Quinn's guidelines. Yet it was as if people saw right through her, knew that she didn't belong there. She felt her friend grab her hand and drag her. She just barely avoided stumbling over her feet.

"Hurry up already, he's about to go on!" Quinn groans impatiently, dragging Rachel to the very edge of the stage. Indeed, the band currently on stage finished up their song, leaving room for whatever was about to happen.

Rachel worried her lip between her teeth, taking in her surroundings. Most of the patrons were dressed in black, some had their hair in crazy colors, while the vast majority looked like an exact replica of the same starving, white boy, piled together in one room.

She turned towards the stage when she heard clapping, and automatically she clapped along. A young man wandered onto the stage, guitar in hand and his guitar pick secured between his lips. He waved to the crowd, who responded with a deafening cascade of shouts and greetings. Rachel looked quizzically towards Quinn, who simply nodded. So this was the guy she knew.

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing back a few stray curls, as he sat down. He settled in, making himself comfortable on the tall stool. He took the pick from between his lips, allowing his mouth to morph into a wide smile as he nodded towards the crowd. He strummed the guitar a few times, making sure it was tuned to perfection. Once satisfied, he lifted his head to look at the expectant crowd. He grabbed a hold of the mic before him, and liquid honey dripped from his mouth.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, my name is Jesse St. James," he chuckled as the crowd clapped once more, "I will be your entertainment here tonight. Let's start off with a slow one."

As the applause died out, he began strumming his guitar softly.

" _I think you'll notice, when things become different."_

" _The good vibes in our lives, won't feel so consistent."_

Rachel's mouth dropped open in awe. Quinn laughed at her friend, having anticipated a reaction like that. Wide-eyed, Rachel listened as Jesse's voice coated the room in a vibrant glow, mesmerizing the crowd.

" _And less becomes more, cause the weight is too heavy."_

" _I swim in the water that's breaking your levy."_

Quinn looked to Rachel, and mouthed "you like it?" Rachel nodded slowly, still a little pensive about letting herself give in to the man before her.

" _The way that you left me is alright, it's alright."_

" _If I argue the point, then we yell and we fight."_

" _And I won't be home for the rest of the night."_

" _You might hate my words but you know that I'm right."_

On stage, Jesse closed his eyes as he continued to sing. His hands flew effortlessly from chord to chord, and Rachel found herself jealous of the ease with which he was manipulating the instrument. He had an intense look on his face, conveying a message with the pure emotion rolling off of him.

" _This is your life, there's no way to run from it."_

" _The doubt in your brain or the pain in your stomach."_

" _I only have but one complaint at the moment."_

" _Don't paint me black when I used to be golden…"_

He dragged out the last note before the crowd erupted. Quinn had been accurate in her description of him. His voice was haunting, powerful, and seemed to wrap around you like a blanket adorned with thorns. He breathed confidence like a dragon breathes fire. He murmured a quick "thank you," into the microphone before stepping back to switch his acoustic guitar for a slick, black, electric one. He plugged it in, playing a few chords before throwing himself into the opening of a song that sounded vaguely familiar. Evidently, everyone else knew it, as they sang along as soon as Jesse opened his mouth.

" _I don't mind, letting you down easy,"_

" _But give it time,"_

" _If it don't hurt now, just wait, just wait a while."_

Quinn was jumping along, singing at the top of her lungs. Rachel tried to move with her, attempting to adjust to a dance that seemed to fit the music. The whole crowd was clapping along as the song progressed, but as Rachel gave up on trying to follow along, she simply looked at Jesse perform.

He was rocking back and forth on his feet, strumming the guitar with fervor. A sweat had broken out on his forehead, and his hair had fallen back down into his eyes from his vigorous movements. His mouth was just barely touching the mic, as he pushed out the lyrics with great force. His grey t-shirt fit snugly around his broad chest, his skinny jeans lengthening his legs until they reached his black chelsea boots. His blue eyes seemed to be holding back a storm, clouds swimming beyond. He looked like a rock star.

He played through his set, a mixture of melancholic love songs and energetic punk rock. Some original songs, some covers. By the time he was done, the crowd was going wild. Rachel figured that most of them probably knew him, seeing as he must be part of this scene. She applauded him, genuinely impressed by his performance. He disappeared backstage, and Quinn grabbed Rachel's hand to drag her to the bar. The blonde ordered them each a sangria, ignoring Rachel's protests about them both being underage, and the inevitable dangers of alcohol poisoning.

"Just take the drink, goody two shoes," Quinn rolled her eyes, pressing the cold glass into Rachel's hand. Rachel reluctantly accepted it, taking a small sip. To her surprise, it was actually not unpleasant. She took a bigger sip and stuck her tongue out at Quinn when the blonde smirked triumphantly. Before she could comment on it, Quinn was swept into a hug by a tall figure, wearing a leather jacket and a huge smile.

"You made it!" he laughed, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around once.

"Of course I did, idiot," Quinn grinned as he finally put her down, "I told you I would, didn't I?"

She patted his chest in a friendly gesture, before turning back around to Rachel, who was looking at the two with wide eyes.

"This is Rachel," Quinn gestured.

"Rachel," he repeated, as if trying it out on his own tongue before continuing, "I'm Jesse. It's a pleasure."

Rachel smiled widely as he grinned at her, so open and accepting, even as he looked her up and down with curiosity. He then reached out his hand, and Rachel shook it carefully. His grip was firm and warm, slightly sweaty from his earlier exhaustions. He drew back his hand and dried it quickly on his jacket.

"Sorry about the, well, the sweat," he chuckled, "sometimes I get so absorbed in the performance that I forget how much work it actually is."

"No worries," Rachel finally spoke, smiling as she raised her glass to her lips, "you were great."

"You think so?" Jesse ran his hand through his sweat-drenched curls, grimacing as he once again dried his hands off in his jacket. He looked like a child, receiving praise from his teacher. Nervous and excited, bubbling with joy at the compliment. He swayed slightly on his feet, eyes shining at her. They were even prettier up close.

"Definitely," Quinn butted in, "girl couldn't take her eyes off of you for a second."

"Really?" Jesse's smile widened, showcasing brilliant white teeth, a stark contrast to the broodiness of his stage persona, "to be completely honest, I saw you in the crowd and had to regroup for a second."

"Oh?" Rachel blushed furiously, thankful for the dim lights somewhat hiding the redness, "that's sweet."

She didn't know what else to say, and apparently neither did he. He simply turned to the bartender and ordered a new round of drinks for them all. Rachel hadn't even noticed that she had emptied the first one. Soon she found a new glass of sangria in her hand, while Jesse's slim fingers curled around a gin and tonic. Quinn started asking him about something on the set list, some new song. Rachel listened intently as he talked animatedly about his music. He seemed so in love with his craft, so passionate. It was refreshing, seeing as she was so used to people who merely enjoyed music. He seemed to possess some of the same intense love as she did. Different genres, most definitely, however music was music.

The topic turned to school, as Quinn told him about their upcoming midterms and he reminisced about his own senior year. He told them how he had been caught cheating, but that the school secretary who had found his notes, had been charmed into not ratting him out. He got an A on that test, and she received a large bouquet of flowers the following day. Apparently, he had charmed his way through all of school, convincing some of the smarter kids to do his homework, in turn of his protection. He did admit to that particular tactic being slightly manipulative but argued that he would have never graduated without doing what he did.

"I'd still be stuck in my senior year if it weren't for Hank," he sighed, referring to his old math tutor. And by tutor, he meant the guy who did all of his homework for him and then some, "I could've been held back enough times to still be there with you guys."

"Wait, how old are you even?" Rachel asked, curiosity getting the better of her. He seemed older, but not old.

"I'm 20," he responded, smiling somewhat triumphantly, "graduated 2 years ago. Not from McKinley though, Carmel."

"Oh really?" Rachel frowned at the name of their rival high school, "were you in glee then?"

"No way, that wasn't really my style," he rubbed his neck, "I was pretty angsty in high school, and glee club was all but that. They would have kicked my little emo ass out."

"Come on, you were never emo," Rachel huffed, trying and failing to even picture it, "if anything you look like you ran track or something."

"Ouch?" Jesse laughed, the deep sound raising Rachel's own lips, "that didn't sound like a compliment. Track is for people who can't combine running with actual skills. At least in football, you have to catch and throw, and in soccer, you have to run _with_ a ball."

The three talked for about twenty more minutes before he was being dragged away by some of his other friends. He gave Quinn a kiss goodbye on the cheek, and after thinking for just a second, did the same with Rachel. She blushed once more, and Quinn gave her a pointed look.

"He likes you," she stated. Rachel looked at her in disbelief, brows raised as she released a high pitched laugh.

"He was just being nice," she insisted, cheeks still burning, "he's a nice guy."

"When he wants to be," Quinn agreed, before looking down into her drink, and then back up at Rachel, "thank you for coming with me. I didn't think you would, honestly. It's not really your scene, after all."

"Of course I wanted to come," Rachel grinned, grabbing Quinn's hand for a quick squeeze, "it was so much fun. I'm surprised you even invited me - but man, am I happy you did."

The two stayed chatting for a while, before agreeing to go home. But not before promising to do it again some other time. They went their separate ways, and even as Rachel said goodbye to her friend, she couldn't seem to shake the pull of a certain set of icy blue eyes.

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 **That's all for now, folks! New chapters coming ASAP! Let me know what you thought :***


	2. Chapter 2

The following Monday, Rachel arrived at school with little to no motivation, and with no desire to be noticed. Usually she wanted to be seen, however today she would attempt to remain invisible. Hopefully she would be invisible to Finn, at least. He had been texting her all weekend, trying to apologize and get back together. Rachel, however, wasn't feeling it. Even though she used to be madly in love with him, consumed with everything he did, borderline obsessed, some might say. Quinn had helped her to see that it wasn't doing anyone any good. To see how pathetic she was being. So while she still ached every time she saw him, her heart constricting within her chest, she would stay away from him.

All weekend she had been occupied with thoughts of a certain curly haired boy, who had managed to take her breath away at the very first note of a song. He hadn't treated her like she wasn't supposed to be there. He even admitted to watching her from the stage. That woke something up inside of her, something that had long laid dormant. Quinn had offered her his phone number, but she hadn't wanted to seem creepy like that. Instead, she resigned herself to the fact that he probably wasn't as interested as she wanted him to be.

She stepped inside McKinley, intending on heading straight to her locker, and then straight to class. At least in her classes with Finn, he wouldn't be able to speak to her. Sometimes strict teachers were actually a blessing. However, as soon as she set foot inside, she was pounced upon.

"Rachel!" the large boy called out, grabbing a hold of her. She quickly shook off his hand and thanked the gods that he didn't attempt to grab her again.

"Finn," she nodded stiffly, stepping back to increase the distance between them. She didn't trust herself around him, despite her effort to stay strong in the face of weakness.

"I'm so sorry Rach, I was an idiot," he started, leaning down towards her and moving just a little closer, "I don't want us to break up, so maybe we can just go make out or something?"

Rachel laughed humorlessly. She used to find his boyish grin and his straightforward flirting extremely charming. Now, it just disturbed her that he would think she was that easy. She was suddenly grateful she had never gone all the way with him, the thought of him touching her so intimately suddenly setting her on fire in all the wrong ways.

"Hey, troll boy," a sharp female voice cut in from behind Finn, "leave her alone, go find some ogre woman to mack on."

Finn turned around, his face red as a tomato, to find Quinn behind him. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her stare cold enough to freeze anything in her path. Finn sighed audibly, his shoulders falling in defeat. He turned back to Rachel, pointing in a manner that seemed almost accusatory.

"Fine," he spat, "but we're not done talking."

Rachel let out a shaky breath as he turned around and left, leaving Rachel and Quinn looking at each other.

"Thanks, Quinn," she finally said, breaking the silence.

"Any time, Rach," the blonde smiled softly, stepping closer, "come on, I'll walk you to class."

Rachel sat in social studies, doodling stars and hearts on her notebook when she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. She ignored it, convinced it was probably Finn trying to get her to talk to him on the phone. She tried to focus on what the teacher was saying, however it turned out it was just as boring as one could imagine. So when her phone vibrated again a minute later, she was curious. She looked around to see if she could take it out without her teacher noticing. She did so hastily, and opened up her messages to find one from an unknown number.

 _Hi beautiful_

She frowned.

 _Wait you're probably in school_

As she was holding the phone another message made her phone vibrate and she silently cursed, hoping no one had noticed. She wasn't known for screwing around in class, and she didn't want that to change her senior year.

 _We should totally hang out after tho_

Her frown deepened. It couldn't be Finn, cause he was sitting two seats behind her, looking at her with puppy dog eyes. It had to be someone who wasn't in school. It couldn't be Puck either, because his number was in her phone. Unless he got a new number, maybe. Maybe it was just a wrong number, even. She took a second, before responding.

 _Who is this?_

It took only a matter of seconds before she got a response.

 _Jesse, from the other night, remember?_

She couldn't help the breath of air that escaped her upon reading that or the smile that appeared on her face.

 _How could I forget? How'd you get my number?_

Probably Quinn, she figured. Maybe he had actually been interested in her after all.

 _Quinn. So wanna hang out?_

Very forward, Rachel couldn't help but think. Refreshing, in a way. He seemed like a guy who knew what he wanted, as opposed to some people. She looked back at Finn, who gave her a small wave and a sad smile. She rolled her eyes, rejoicing in the way his shoulders slumped.

 _I'd like that. When?_

She placed a nail between her teeth, feeling suddenly anxious. What if he wouldn't like her as much during the day? Maybe she had given him the wrong impression when they met. Maybe he actually thought she was cool.

 _I'm picking you up after school._

It didn't leave much room for discussion. She bit her lip, placing the phone back in her pocket. Maybe a little adventure was exactly what she needed. Besides, Jesse was alluring, no denying it. He seemed like entertaining company, and if she had to go off of the way she had been thinking since she met him, she would regret not trying it out. She briefly debated whether or not she should tell Quinn, but ultimately decided not to. If it did turn out to be embarrassing and awkward, the fewer people who knew, the better.

If she had thought no one would notice her leaving with him after school, she was sadly mistaken. He stood out like a sore thumb amid the high school crowd, all confidence and elegance as he stood, leaning against a matte black 1968 Camaro. He had a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head, and Rachel chuckled at how cliché it all seemed. If he noticed all of the students staring at him, he showed no indication to show that he was the least bit bothered. In fact, he looked downright indifferent, as if he might as well be anywhere else just then. Only when he spotted her did his expression change, morphing into a soft smile that made her cheeks heat up.

She walked to him, slowly, looking around simultaneously to see if anyone was paying attention to them. Of course, people were still staring at Jesse, but so far she hadn't seen anyone she knew. Thankfully, Jacob wasn't around, or he would've had a stroke. Fuel for an entire month's vlogging about her was standing in this parking lot.

Jesse looked at her with eyebrows raised, and she realized she was standing still, having gotten lost in her own paranoia. She shuffled closer to him, clutching her bookbag in both hands. He shook his head and chuckled softly as she stopped in front of him.

"Hi," he said casually, leaning in to kiss her cheek. If everyone wasn't paying attention to them before, they sure were now. Rachel ducked her head, blushing something awful, which only served to make Jesse grin even wider.

"Hey," she breathed, smiling at him as she gathered the courage to look back up, "hope I didn't make you wait too long."

"For you, I would've waited even longer," he winked at her and moved to open the door for her. He gestured for her to get in the car, and she complied, not sure how to reply.

He moved to the other side of the car and got in, shooting her a reassuring smile as he noticed her looking carefully at the students passing by them. Maybe he had been a little cliché in his approach. Maybe she thought he had been too forward, even. But if that were the case, she didn't mention it. He turned on the engine, the radio turning on the moment he did. A brief look of shock passed over Rachel's features before she burst into laughter.

"CMR Nashville?" she choked out, looking at him in disbelief, "Jesse St. James, rock god supreme, listens to country in his car? Who would've thunk it?"

"Laugh your little heart out," Jesse grinned, cheeks a little red at being discovered. Might as well own up to it now. "No one speaks to my soul like Blake Shelton and Luke Bryan. Poetry in its purest form, darling."

Rachel literally snorted in laughter, watching as Jesse pushed his sunglasses down over his eyes and wiggled his eyebrows at her. He reached up with both hands, pretending to be adjusting a cowboy hat before turning the volume on the radio up and pulling out of the parking lot.

" _We're buzzing like that no vacancy sign out front,"_

" _Your skin is begging to be kissed by a little more than the sun,"_

" _You take my hands in yours, you lean in and -"_

Jesse put on his best country drawl to sing along:

" _Your lips taste like sangria,"_

" _Your lips taste like sangria."_

He dragged out the note as far as he could, and while it didn't sound all that good, it did make Rachel laugh even harder. The music quieted down alongside her laughter, and she turned to look at Jesse with a puzzled expression. She sat with her head leaning on her hand, biting her lip slightly. Jesse watched her out of the corner of his eye, noticing the curious expression on her face.

"You alright there, Rachel?" he said, thankfully dropping the country accent for now.

"Yeah," she sighed and looked down at her lap, "I was just wondering why you got my number from Quinn. Why you want to hang out with me."

"That's easy. You caught my eye the moment I saw you in the crowd that night," he smiled at her, almost shyly, "and when I saw you were with Quinn I knew you had to be cool. But actually talking to you made up my mind. How could I not want to get to know you better?"

"That's really sweet," Rachel spoke softly, a wistful smile on her lips.

"Besides," Jesse continued, his voice a little more mellow, "you had this sad smile on your lips the whole time, and I didn't think it suited you."

Rachel blushed, for the umpteenth time in way too short a time. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, looking straight ahead in thought. Jesse reached over the gear shift and grabbed her hand gently, careful not to startle her. He stroked the back of her hand soothingly with his thumb.

"You don't have to talk to me about it," he began, "hell, you don't even know me. Just let me make you smile for real for a little while."

"I'd like that," Rachel said in a near whisper, savoring his skin on hers.

They drove in silence for a while, both listening to the music flowing from the speakers. She chuckled as it switched from music to a pair of radio hosts, sporting the thickest southern accents she'd ever heard. Jesse laughed along with her, doing his best impression of the men, and before long she joined in.

"Presenting Jesse St. James, singing _My truck and I_ ," she said, and Jesse burst out laughing at her horrible attempt at a redneck dialect.

"Much obliged, Rachel," he responded, drawing out his words in an over the top country drawl, "I wanna dedicate this li'l diddy to my momma, and my tractor, Betty."

He howled like a prairie dog, before launching himself into a mock country song.

" _I got mud on my pants, water in my boot,"_

" _I got a deer on my shoulder that my brother helped me shoot."_

" _I got a baby at home, and his name is Buck,"_

" _But I won't ever love him, how I love my truck."_

"You're so stupid," Rachel said in between laughter, hitting him playfully on the shoulder.

"Watch it, darling," he chuckled, "you wouldn't want me to drive into the ditch now, would you?"

"I suppose that wouldn't be profitable for either of us," she mused, looking outside to try and get a hint as to where they were going, "where are you taking me to, anyways? Kidnapping me to some secret location, where no one will ever find me?"

"I usually save that for the second date," he deadpanned, "I try to be a gentleman about it."

"Idiot."

"Well, if you keep sweet talking me like that, I might just take you straight to my evil lair," he pushed his sunglasses back onto the top of his head and smiled brightly at her, "but if you behave I'll stick to my original plan of ice cream and a drink, maybe?"

"A drink? On a Monday?" she arched her brows, "you sure are a rebel, St. James. However, I am not opposed to it."

"I figured as much," he teased, pulling the car into a parking lot beside a small diner, "and don't worry, they have a great vegan menu, I looked it up earlier."

"How'd you -"

"Quinn."

"Of course," Rachel beamed, touched by the fact that he would've asked Quinn about her before asking her out.

He led her to the door, a hand on the small of her back as they entered the cozy little space. The walls were lined with different coloured booths, similar to those she was used to seeing in movies. A buzz was coming from the neon sign above the counter, spelling out the name of the place: _Buster's Bistro_. Right below the sign, stood a tiny man with beady eyes and a large, grey beard. Buster, she figured. Jesse led her to a booth by the window, grabbing a couple of menus on the way. He sat down across from her, ignoring his body, pleading to be next to her. No need to come on even stronger than he already had. He handed Rachel a menu that she gladly accepted. Her eyes lit up as she reached the vegan section.

"Order anything you like," Jesse said, "my treat, obviously."

They both ordered and sat in comfortable silence as they waited. Rachel looked at him, contemplating how it could be that she trusted him so easily. Maybe it was the way he sounded so sincere when he spoke, or the warmth radiating from his eyes. While they were icy blue, they still spoke of concern and happiness. He didn't pressure her to talk to him, letting her figure things out at her own pace. Coincidentally, that only made her want to confide in him even more.

"Jesse?"

"Hmm?" he responded around a mouthful of ice cream.

"I know you said I didn't need to talk to you about what's going on," she said haltingly, continuing as he nodded, "well I want to."

He gave her a small smile, urging her to continue.

"You see, my boyfriend…"


	3. Chapter 3

" _You see, my boyfriend…"_

The way his face morphed into an expression of utter disappointment for a second, made Rachel's heart ache. She might as well have imagined it, because the second after he was looking at her with rapt attention, as if he wanted nothing more than to hear about her and Finn. She felt a slight twinge of guilt, but his eyes seemed to urge her to continue.

"He and I didn't end on great terms," she looked down at her ice cream, completely missing the look of relief that passed over Jesse's features, "he was sort of, my first love, I guess. Not that I have anything to compare it to. We've just been on and off for so long, it's been a little hard for me to adjust."

Jesse reached his hand over the table, covering her smaller one completely. It didn't feel awkward or corny, just comforting. His smile was small, yet still genuine, and his eyes didn't hold the pity she was so used to getting when talking about Finn with others.

"Why'd you break up?" he asked after a second of consideration, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.

"We've never really seen eye to eye, especially on things like the future," Rachel shrugged, "I want to head off to New York once my senior year is over, and he wants to stay in Lima and work in his step dad's garage. I want NYADA, he wants community college. He's a sweet guy, really, but our ambitions have never really been the same. I guess he felt like I was leaving him behind, and he's used to being this big shot, quarterback superstar, so he's probably never tried that before."

"What are your ambitions?" Jesse asked, letting go of her hand to take a bite of his ice cream.

"I want to be on Broadway. It's been my dream for as long as I can remember," she sighed, eyes clouding as she thought of it, "singing is what I've always really loved. Performing just makes me feel so _alive_. Getting into NYADA would offer me opportunities no other place can and give me a real shot at some actual stage experience."

Jesse nodded thoughtfully, and by the glazed look in his eyes, it appeared he was thinking of something important. His brows were furrowed in contemplation, lips pursed slightly.

"How about you?" Rachel wondered, "you must've got some bigger dreams than playing the underground scenes in your hometown?"

"I guess you could say that," Jesse chuckled softly, if not a little pensive, "I actually got a full ride to Tisch. I spent one semester there, before realizing college just wasn't for me."

"Really?" Rachel looked at him, slack-jawed, "Jesse that's so impressive. How come you haven't gone somewhere else to perform then? You're definitely talented enough."

"I guess it's a little scary," Jesse shrugged, "there's always the possibility of it not working out. So, for now, I'm pretty content with this whole, "underground celebrity" thing."

"You'll get there someday," Rachel assured him, "I've seen what you can do."

"Maybe I'll make it to the grand city of Nashville one of these days," Jesse drawled, lightning the mood, "once they open their eyes to the power of my banjo."

"Please tell me you don't actually play the banjo," Rachel laughed.

He elected to respond with nothing more than a sly wink, that had Rachel laughing on in disbelief. They continued to joke with each other, occasionally touching down on more sensitive subjects. He seemed to actually get her, and seemed genuinely interested in her hopes and aspirations. He didn't even make fun of her when she launched into a detailed description of the tiniest issues within the Glee club. Instead, he nodded in all the right places, and made comments she hadn't even thought of herself. They sat there, ice cream melting as they busied themselves with talking instead of eating. Before long, the sun began to set, bathing them in an orange glow.

"Can I take you home?" Jesse asked, standing up and extending his arm for her to take.

"It would be an honour."

"Honour's all mine."

He led her to the car, exchanging a quick couple words with Buster on the way out. Once again he opened the passenger door for her, before getting in the driver's seat. This time, he left the radio off as they drove home in silence. It was comfortable, each of them mulling over everything they had learned about the other throughout their talk. Rachel spoke only when he was getting close to her house, supplying him with the adequate directions. As he parked the car in front of the suburban home, he turned off the engine and turned to her with a smile that seemed to cover up something more uncertain.

"Rachel?"

"Yeah?" she smiled at how shy he sounded, rejoicing in her ability to slip past his confident facades.

"I know you just broke up with Finn," he spoke carefully, "and that you're not going to want to jump into anything serious any time soon. However, if you ever just want to have some fun, to forget about it all and cut loose… I'm here."

Rachel reached over to grab his hand in hers, squeezing ever so slightly. He looked up at her with warmth radiating from his eyes, an insecure smile on his lips. His free hand reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from her eyes, his own eyes moving to her lips for a brief second. He leaned in, placing a sweet kiss to the corner of her mouth before releasing her face once more. Now it was Rachel's turn to feel shy. She beamed at their intertwined hands, before nodding towards him.

"I'd like that a lot."

The next day at school, Rachel couldn't seem to wipe the grin off her face. Even running straight into an inquisition with Jacob didn't bring her down. She simply dismissed him, refusing to let him break her stride. She daydreamed her way through all of her classes, and her head was still in the clouds when she entered the choir room. Quinn had been trying to get a chance to talk to her all day, but since they hadn't been in any classes together it had proved impossible. So when she saw Rachel enter she nearly jumped her, an excited smile on her lips.

"So?" she dragged out the word, raising her brows at the smirking girl.

"So what?" Rachel mused, knowing how frustrated the other girl would be by her refusal to share any information.

"You guys went on a _date_ ," Quinn hissed, shaking her head violently, "why are you not jumping around like a maniac?"

"It wasn't a _date_ ," Rachel corrected, "just friends hanging out. I'm sure Jesse told you that."

"No, he only told me that he hasn't stopped thinking of you since, and I can't for the life of me figure out why," the blonde groaned, wringing her hands. Rachel soaked in her misery, feeling mighty and mysterious. While she was in some ways dying to reveal every little detail of their rendezvous, she felt it even more important to keep this little piece of privacy. Jesse was just her's to enjoy, to bask in.

Before Rachel even had the chance to play coy once more, she was grabbed by the hand and spun around, by none other than Finn Hudson, ex-boyfriend extraordinaire. He looked pissed, as if someone had told him his favourite football player had suffered a career-ending injury. The vein in his forehead was throbbing, his giant hands clenched into tight fists. He looked on the verge of an aneurysm.

"Hello Finnigan," Rachel said coldly, "you look a little tense."

"Cut the crap Rachel!" Finn barked, stepping closer to her, "you didn't answer my texts all day yesterday. I was worried about you. You can't just ignore me when I'm trying to patch stuff up with you!"

"You've had enough chances at putting things right, Finn," Rachel retorted, "I am done with you. I need to find someone who will appreciate me and everything I bring to the table. Not just the convenient parts of me."

"That's bullshit!" Finn looked flabbergasted, and with his mouth opening and closing repeatedly, he looked more like a fish out of water than anything else.

Rachel grinned at him, walking straight past him with Quinn by her side, the pair settling into a pair of chairs next to Kurt, right in front of Santana. The latina smirked at Rachel, even shooting her a wink as the brunette sat down. Rachel got a sinking feeling in her stomach, afraid that Santana might know something about her little secret. However, when Kurt leaned in to talk to her about their history assignment, she assumed she was none the wiser. If Kurt didn't know, no one else did either.

Mr. Schue entered the room a few seconds later, frowning at the sight of the dumbfounded teenage boy on the middle of the floor.

"Finn?" he asked, cautiously, "you alright?"

Finn merely shook his head and sat down, opting for the chair that was the furthest away from Rachel. Maybe he finally got the message. With a shake of his head, Mr. Schue launched into this week's goals. They had to finish their set list for regionals, where they would face off against Carmel and some other high school from further down south. They had already brainstormed a few ideas, but nothing had been agreed upon yet. As per usual, every member had different ambitions, and few were willing to compromise. Rachel was no exception.

"I'm just saying, if we do an actual showstopper song, we will _stop the show_ ," she huffed in frustration, "if we keep doing songs that no one knows, we won't qualify for nationals."

"I will claw my eyes out if I have to dance in the background while I watch you do one more Barbra Streisand song," Santana objected, halfway out of her seat already.

Mr. Schue signalled for them all to calm down, and quiet down. He looked at them with aggravation in his eyes, and if Rachel could read minds she was willing to bet he was thinking up ways to keep them occupied, while he himself could leave unnoticed. She felt a buzz in her pocket, and suppressed a smile. Now was not the time to get distracted, she had a point to drive home.

"Not all showstoppers are Barbra Streisand, Santana," she said quietly, "there's plenty of old rock songs that are showstoppers too. Just needs to be something powerful, something people will recognize right off the bat."

"Who would've thought we'd see the day," Santana marveled, "the great Rachel Berry accepts songs that have never been on Broadway. Someone record this, we're looking at a miracle."

She threw her hands up in mock prayer, and the other members of the club laughed along with her. Rachel herself couldn't even deny the humor in the situation, and chuckled softly.

"Right, right," Mr. Schue nodded furiously, "so you guys give that some thought and I'll go check, to see if… I'm just going to go for a minute. Good work kids!"

Living up to Rachel's expectations, he bolted out of the room as fast as possible. Kurt turned to Mercedes and Santana to discuss options, while Quinn looked expectantly at the brunette. Rachel motioned towards her phone as she took it from her pocket, and mouthed "Jesse," in the blonde's direction. She received a grin and a rolling of eyes in response, and unlocked her phonewith a smile of her own.

 _Hey darling_

 _I keep forgetting about the whole school thing.._

Rachel typed her response as her shoulders shook in amusement.

 _Don't worry about it, cowboy. You like classic rock, right?_

She didn't have to wait long for a reply.

 _I sure do. Why?_

Deciding to push him a little, she shot him back with a cryptic answer.

 _Pick me up at my place, 10pm. Bring music._

He didn't even ask any further questions. He just send her a thumbs up, confirming their deal. He sure was better at communicating in person. Then again, he could be in the middle of something. She stuffed her phone back in her pocket, and turned her full attention to Quinn. The blonde was watching her keenly, trying to decipher any of their conversation from just the expression on Rachel's face. Thank god for years of acting.

"I would ask what's going on between you two, but I doubt you'd tell me," Quinn sighed, "are you seeing him again?"

"I might," Rachel shrugged, "depends on what he wants of course. We're just having fun, you know?"

"Yeah, he's not good for much else anyways," Quinn snorted, earning a quizzical look from Rachel, "oh come on Rach, you didn't think you were the only girl he's been talking to, did you?"

"I mean," Rachel's shoulders slumped and she bit her bottom lip thoughtfully, "I guess not."

"I'm just saying, don't expect too much of him," the blonde continued, unbothered, "all the time I've known him, he hasn't had a single serious relationship."

"It's alright," Rachel nodded, "I don't want a relationship anyways."

She didn't know if that was completely true, but she wanted it to be. That's what her and Jesse had talked about, too. He hadn't mentioned any other women though, and some part of her figured he might actually think she was special too. She wasn't sure what she had been thinking. Of course he had other girls, he was young, attractive and talented, after all. She could've never expected to hold him down like that. He was _fun_. He even said that himself. With a heavy heart she picked her phone back up, and messaged him without a second thought.

 _Something came up, don't bother._


	4. Chapter 4

_Something came up, don't bother._

Those words haunted for the rest of the day, and even as her dads sent her worried looks throughout dinner, she couldn't even pretend they didn't. She'd been going back and forth on her decision to cancel their plans all day. They'd had so much fun together, and he'd kissed her, and it had been all kinds of wonderful. Even though it was nothing more than a peck, it had made her heart beat a little faster. He'd moved with such confidence, nothing like the clumsy, wet kisses Finn used to give her. It hadn't been perfect, far from it, but it had felt right.

And now she had shut him out.

She looked to the clock above her vanity, biting her lip as the biggest arrow reached 10. She could have been sneaking out to him by now, slipping into his car as he opened the door for her. Kissing him on the cheek, feeling that slight stubble after a day of hard work. Instead, she was sitting on her bed, desperately trying to find a song the glee club could perform for regionals. The others were counting on her. Idiots. She was infamous for doing Broadway. Why on earth would they expect her to find anything else?

Right. Because she had been the idiot. She'd opened her big, fat mouth, just to prove a point. How come no one noticed she had no clue what she was talking about?

Defeated, she laid down on the bed, groaning in frustration. Before long the anger and despair wore her out, and her eyes closed on their own accord. She let sleep wrap its arms around her, embracing her, coercing her into sweet slumber.

She didn't know how long she'd been asleep. She just knew that falling asleep amidst a pile of papers was far from comfortable. Not to mention impractical.

Oh, and something was tapping at her window.

Rachel gathered her covers close to her chest, staring intently towards the window. She felt her pulse rise, and the hairs on her arms stand up. What the hell was that?

Whatever it was, it wasn't stopping. Rachel quickly felt for her phone, checking the time the second she had her fingers wrapped around it. 11:23. Not too late, however late enough for it to be completely dark, and eerily quiet. Except for that incessant tapping. It got increasingly louder, but never loud enough for it to be heard anywhere but her own room.

Rachel reached down beside her bed, feeling out the slim handle of the baseball bat her dads had gifted her for her 12th birthday. Never too early for self-defense, they'd said. Exhaling forcefully, she got to her feet, one hand equipped with the bat, the other switching on the flashlight on her phone. She approached the window cautiously, looking carefully for any sign of what was out there.

She was on the first floor, making it all the more mysterious. If someone was out there, they would've had to climb the wall of roses directly beneath her window, and Rachel knew from experience that it was anything from pleasant. She had once had to sneak in, following a night out with Quinn. It'd opened her mind to so many new things, she barely cared about the scratches.

The tapping stopped for a second and was replaced by a slight shuffling, as if someone was moving around out there. She knew that if she called out, the glass would muffle her voice to the point where it didn't matter what she'd say. As she slowly moved towards the windowsill, the tapping came to a complete stop. Uncertain, she continued, the soft carpet beneath her bare feet the only thing keeping her grounded.

She reached the window, unsure of how to continue. She could potentially be opening it up to some sort of axe murderer, or maybe something as stupid as a bird. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before pushing the window open.

"Jesse?" she squealed, mouth agape.

Outside of her window, perched on the tiles right next to it, sat a very disheveled looking Jesse. He was running his hand through his curls, as he fixed her with a small, uncertain smile.

"Hi."

"Why are you on my roof?" Rachel asked in disbelief, not entirely sure she wasn't seeing things.

"Well, uh, I wanted to get here earlier, but I went to the wrong house and Miss Jefferson next door invited me in for tea," he shrugged, obviously not expecting her to actually open the window, "I thought about ringing the doorbell but I figured your dads would turn me away. So I crawled up here, and then you didn't respond to the tapping so I thought you might be asleep, but then I couldn't get down again. So, hi."

"You're insane," Rachel said, grabbing his arm, "get in here, you idiot."

She pulled him inside with little resistance, rolling her eyes as he knocked over a few figurines and CDs in the process. He smiled sheepishly, rushing to pick up the items, and stood holding them in his arms, unsure of how to proceed. Rachel grabbed them from him, lining them up carefully in their previous positions, placing the bat next to her vanity.

"Why are you here?" she finally asked, back turned to him as he stood in the middle of her room, just looking around.

"Well you told me not to come," he responded quickly, "so I came."

"That makes no sense, whatsoever."

"I know, I know," he turned her around by the shoulders and locked their eyes together, "and I know I don't know you that well but I figured you didn't mean it. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

His eyes softened as he spoke, and Rachel felt her heart rate speed up just the tiniest bit. He moved his hands down to take a gentle hold of hers, stroking the back of her hands with his thumbs.

"I know it's pretty weird, but I just hated the thought of you, locked away in your tower in distress," he winked at her, hoping to ease the tension surrounding her.

"How'd you know?" she worried her bottom lip with her teeth and stepped a little closer to him.

"I have a built-in radar for damsels in distress," he joked, "and based on your texts earlier today you were in need of some old school rock saving."

He let go of her hands and pulled out a Walkman, wiggling it suggestively. Rachel laughed out loud, stifling it slightly with her hand.

"Who on earth still owns an actual Walkman?" she asked, causing him to frown.

"Listen here young lady," he began ceremoniously, "nothing beats the sound of classic rock played straight from one of these bad boys. I grew up on this, but I sure didn't grow out of it."

"I can't believe you came to my house, crawled onto the roof, and expect me to just listen to music with you," she smiled, "most guys would expect something quite different after all that effort."

"I am not most guys," he said seriously, a hint of humour in his eyes, "I'm a whole other species. I just want to listen to the music I love with the girl I've got my eyes on, and maybe hold her hand if she lets me."

Rachel was tempted to just give in when she was reminded of what she had been worrying about all day.

"You probably say that to all the girls," she said somberly, taking a step back.

Jesse seemed to sense what she meant, and he sighed deeply. He bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair, eyes focused intently on hers.

"I know I might come off as a bit of manwhore," he said roughly, "but I can't make myself think about anyone but you at the moment. We said this was just fun, nothing serious, but right now you're the only one I want to have fun with."

"You mean that?" Rachel was still a little unsure, despite feeling a blush spread across her cheeks at his words. This could be just another trick of his. Why would he want to commit to her at all? He was a soon to be rockstar, after all. He could have his pick of women, and she was just a high school student who spends her days obsessing over Broadway plays and whether or not anyone in Glee club even liked her.

"I mean every single word I say to you," he said sincerely, offering her his hands once more. She took them without hesitation, finding herself inexplicably drawn to him. She nodded and muttered a barely audible "ok."

He smiled shyly at her, and let go of one hand to have a free hand with which he cupped her cheek. He leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly, lips lingering on her soft skin. Then he beamed at her with that irresistible smile and captured her hand once more.

"Good," he nodded, as if to assure himself, "now that we've got that all cleared up, let's get into this music, shall we?"

Rachel grinned and dragged him down to sit on the floor, their backs resting against the end of her bed. He got the Walkman out once more and offered her an earbud, which she gladly accepted. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out three cassette tapes, each labeled with barely legible handwriting. He put in the first one without a word and pressed play. He took a hold of her hand, resting it on the floor between them as he fought his instincts and kept a respectable distance.

Noticing his hesitation, Rachel scooted a little closer so that their thighs were touching. She was all too aware that she was wearing the clothes she had worn all day, from when she had fallen asleep in them earlier. He hadn't mentioned it, and he was after all, also in jeans and a t-shirt. And that stupid denim jacket that he was prone to wearing everywhere. The only time she'd seen him without it was the first night they met, when he'd been performing. A soft smile graced her lips at the memory, and Jesse looked at her quizzically.

"What are you smiling about, darling?" he asked quietly.

"The night we first met," she squeezed his hand slightly, "I don't think anyone could've predicted that you'd end up in my bedroom on a second date, after knocking on my window for minutes on end."

"It wasn't that long," he protested, "you could've just woken up sooner."

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Besides," Jesse continued, "I saw it coming. Well, at least I hoped something would happen. You were easily the most beautiful girl in that room, hell, easily the most beautiful girl I've seen for years. I didn't ask Quinn for your number for no reason, after all."

Blushing, Rachel quickly changed the subject; "You really had tea with Miss Jefferson?"

"Sure did," Jesse laughed easily, "I went up and knocked on her door, thinking it was your house. When she opened the door I told her I was looking for you and she told me you lived next door, but that maybe I wanted to come in for a cup of tea first. I figured I might as well, she seemed a little lonely."

"Wow," Rachel said, "next you'll tell me that animals and children like you as well. Maybe you really are a saint."

"Trust me, darling, I am no saint," he smiled suggestively at her, causing a flare of heat to reach her cheeks.

"R-right," she breathed, not even bothering to stop the way they were unconsciously leaning towards each other.

She felt his hot breath on her lips for a brief second, before he captured her lips with his own. It was a soft, open-mouthed kiss, innocent enough, despite the fire Rachel felt at the sensation of his lips on her own. She let her mind flow free as he moved a hand to the back of her neck, applying the tiniest bit of pressure. Rachel placed a hand on his chest, at once preserving the distance between their bodies, and feeling his heart beat beneath her palm. She felt him smile against her mouth, and the corners of her mouth rose to match his.

 _Well it's a marvelous night for a moondance_

 _With the stars up above in your eyes_

 _A fantabulous night to make romance_

' _Neath the cover of October skies_

Jesse increased the pressure of his hand on her neck ever so slightly, drawing her closer. The kiss was strictly lips, and thought he did move closer he kept it that way. Rachel appreciated the unspoken agreement between them, and instead of worrying about him trying to push her further she just lost herself in his kiss.

 _And all the leaves on the trees are falling_

 _To the sound of the breezes that blow_

 _And I'm trying to please to the calling_

 _Of your heart-strings that play soft and low_

 _And all the night's magic seems to whisper and hush_

 _And all the soft moonlight seems to shine in your blush._

When they finally pulled away from each other, both were a little short of breath. Their foreheads rested against each other, and Rachel was smiling like a complete idiot. Even with her eyes closed, she could tell he was too. She moved a hand to the back of his neck, stroking the hairs there. It was as soft as she imagined it would be.

Satisfied, he shuffled them around so that her head was resting upon his shoulder. The song soon came to an end, and with it, the tape. He switched it for another one, and once again took hold of her hand.

Rachel closed her eyes, feeling more content than she could ever remember feeling with Finn. She let the song dominate her mind and simply listened to the lyrics and the elegant flow of the melody.

Somewhere in the middle of the third tape, the sensation of Jesse's body moving ever so slightly with his every breath, combined with the emotional distress of the day, she fell asleep.

She woke up the next morning, unconsciously moving to switch off her annoying, never-ending alarm. The covers rustled as she moved, and the mattress seemed to pull her in. She was so freaking comfortable, as she dug her fingers into her sheets.

Her eyes flew open and she shot straight up, into a sitting position.

She was in bed.

She didn't recall falling asleep in her bed. She remembered the smell of toasted cinnamon, the warm tingle of a hand in hers, the pleasure of a hand stroking her hair comfortingly.

She remembered Jesse. Oh god, she'd fallen asleep on Jesse.

Or maybe not. The longer she sat in her bed, the more convinced she was that it had all been a dream. She did a quick scan around the room, searching for anything out of the ordinary. She was about to give up when something on her window caught her eye. A slip of yellow paper was taped to it, and Rachel hurried over to retrieve it. She was still in her jeans and her t-shirt and was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with having worn them for a whole day, and apparently a whole night too.

She grabbed the note and read it quickly, a smile spreading on her face.

 _Good morning darling_

 _Didn't want to wake you, but figured your old men wouldn't appreciate seeing my ugly mug in your room, and on a school night nonetheless._

 _I hope your sleep was worth that of royalty, and that you face the day today, knowing that you are pretty cool._

\- Jesse

 _Ps. you look really damn cute when you sleep._


	5. Chapter 5

Rachel went about her day, softly humming a tune that she couldn't quite place. She just knew it triggered a tingle in her lips and a longing in her heart. She couldn't help but smile as her thoughts seemed to return to the night before, nonstop. In a few days of knowing each other, Jesse had managed to get into her room in the middle of the night, a feat Finn had never accomplished. He'd been there a few times during the day, with the door open at all times. The secrecy of her new situation with Jesse was exciting. He was new and shiny and every last bit as fun as he had promised he would be.

Yet the way he spoke to her indicated something much more serious. The intensity with which he looked at her, the familiarity she felt at his touch. It had to be real. A deeper connection, that she wasn't entirely sure either of them was ready to face. Keeping things at a slow pace seemed to be the best course of action. Slow and steady.

When she'd woken up that morning and read his note, she'd felt a warmth in her chest, one that slowly flowed throughout the rest of her body - from her toes to her fingertips. She had tucked the note away into the drawer of her vanity. That way her dads definitely wouldn't find it. Strangely enough, the thought of her dads catching Jesse in her room hadn't even crossed her mind when he was there. Looking back, she definitely realized just how risky it had been. They had easily been loud enough for them to wake up and cause suspicion. It somehow made it all that much more exciting in hindsight.

She walked into her last class of the day, Spanish. As luck would have it, Finn seemed to be absent today. Although she was moving on from him, seeming him was still a little painful. Mr. Schue waltzed in a minute later, greeting the entire class with genuine enthusiasm. If only his good mood lasted until Glee club, this day might be pretty great. He threw himself into a passionate speech about the beauty of the Spanish language. He highlighted all the opportunities a foreign language would open up for all of them, and his excitement reminded her of the pep talks he usually gave before a big competition. She shook her head in amusement. He really was a passionate man.

A good fifteen minutes into his speech, the door burst open. In stumbled Finn, a grimace on his face from his impact with the door. He seemed to have tumbled straight into it in his rush. Usually Rachel would feel worried, however now, all she felt was slight amusement. That had to be a good sign. That's how all the other girls seemed to feel about their exes.

"Sorry I'm late Mr. Schue. My appointment with Miss Pillsbury ran a little long," he looked over the class, straightening his shoulders, "no biggie, just some college stuff."

"Alright, sit down Finn," Schue said patiently, never one to get mad at his star pupil. His love of the football player was a tad uncomfortable, actually. It was almost like he was living out his youthful dreams through the boy.

Coincidentally, the only empty seat was beside Rachel. Typical. So much for that flawless day. He sat down, knocking into the table in the progress. His large frame towered over hers, even when seated. The quality that once seemed to comfort and appease her, now merely seemed impractical and awkward. He had to hunch over the table to comfortably copy down the info from the blackboard. Doing this, he also pushed out his elbows so that he was taking up half of her side of the table as well. With a huff, she adjusted so that she was leaning away from him, making use of the "Finn-free" space. It only lasted a second, then he leaned into her and whispered.

"I'm sorry I was being a douche yesterday," he began, "I just want us to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about." Rachel grabbed her pencil painfully.

"Yeah, there is," Finn whispered, motioning his finger from her to him, " _this_ can't be over. We're like, meant to be."

"We really aren't, Finn," she let out a breath she'd been unconsciously holding at his close proximity, "you broke up with me, and I think it's better for both of us. Maybe you should consider a rebound."

Whatever it took to get him off her back. Although it might sting a little, him getting together with some other girl might aid in the healing process.

"We love each other, Rach," he ran his hand over his face, "you used to tell me I was the love of your life. What happened to all that?"

"Maybe I realized that it wasn't true," Rachel bit, "maybe I realized that it would never work. Maybe I don't want to be stuck with a boyfriend whose biggest ambition is to graduate from community college."

It was a low blow, and Rachel knew it. While it wasn't a dream close to hers in its grandiosity, it was _his_ dream. He actually worked hard at it, and she knew that from their countless study sessions.

"Not cool, Rachel," he huffed, moving away from her once more.

Biting her tongue, Rachel fought the urge to comfort him and apologize. It would only spur him on, urge him to continue trying to win her back. Maybe he needed her to be a little mean. With that in mind, she kept her silence for the remainder of the class, only speaking when called upon. She could feel Finn staring at her at times, but couldn't bear to look back and see the pain in his eyes. She had loved him, he'd been right about that. But they hadn't been right for each other for that reason. She was just glad she could finally see that.

The bell rang and all the students rushed out, eager to get on with whatever they had planned for the afternoon. It was with a significantly heavier heart than she had, had that morning, that Rachel trailed behind. She made her way towards the choir room, thankful that Finn had rushed out with the rest of the class. It meant he was in there already, but it also meant he wasn't going to push it by trying to walk with her. He was probably still reasonably mad at her. If she was fortunate, he wouldn't have time to spread the word before she entered.

That thought urged her on. She sped up, scurrying towards the choir room in a slight panic. Her reputation was bad enough with that crowd, she didn't need any more crap being spread out about her.

She calmed herself before entering the room, finding most of the other members already seated there. To her relief, Finn was sitting by himself on the front row, not speaking to anyone. She praised the lord silently, before falling into a seat beside Quinn. The blonde smiled at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Jesse texted me this morning," she said, looking straight ahead with a diminutive smile on her lips, "good night, was it?"

"He told you that?" Rachel blushed furiously, avoiding her friend's eyes.

"Of course he did," Quinn smirked, "he was giddy like a schoolgirl, practically bursting to tell someone."

"Really?" the brunette gaped at her, continuing in an excited whisper, "because I've been dying to tell someone about that kiss, but I didn't think he'd want me to."

"Woah, slow your roll Berry," Quinn held up her hands, "he didn't actually tell me anything, except that he went to see you. Does he really seem like the type to be giddy? However, you just told me everything I needed to know."

"Quinn!" Rachel nearly yelled, gaining the attention of most of the others, "you're evil."

Before Quinn could defend herself, Santana sauntered over to where the pair was sitting. She sat backward on the chair in front of them and raised her eyebrows at them.

"What'd Quinnie do to get your panties in a twist this time, man hands?" she asked casually.

"That's none of your business," Rachel felt the heat in her cheeks, her own body betraying her confident words.

"When you yell about it to the whole club it is," Santana leaned in closer and lowered her voice a tad, "wouldn't happen to have anything to do with Hottie St. James, would it?"

Rachel felt her jaw drop. Who would've told the other girl about it? She was sure she wasn't there when he had picked her up the other day. Quinn wouldn't have told on her, would she? No. She trusted the blonde. Then again, Santana had always been known to have her sources. As much as she liked to seem like she didn't give a hoot about other people's lives, she sure was on top of the McKinley gossip.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Rachel feigned innocence.

"Sure you don't," Santana chuckled darkly, "you don't remember tall, hot and handsome? You know, the one with the nice car whom you definitely went out with the other day. More commonly goes by the name of Jesse. Apparently king of the rock scene from here to the next couple towns over."

"Oh, that guy," Rachel said, lowering her head. She stared down at her hands. She really hadn't wanted anyone to find out. Jesse didn't need to get involved with all the high school drama.

"Don't worry, Berry," Santana rolled her eyes, "I won't tell on you. Just let me go to his next show with you guys, so I can ask him what he sees in you."

Rachel mulled it over. On the one hand, bringing Santana would keep her mouth shut. On the other hand, she might just want to talk Jesse out of their arrangement. Taking the way she talked about him into account, she seemed pretty clear about her feelings about his physical appearance at least. Then again, Jesse had been quick to assure her last night, that right now he only had eyes for her. It had felt sincere, and Rachel didn't want to start doubting him again.

"Okay, fine," she sighed, "you can come. But don't be stupid."

"I am never stupid, Berry," Santana retorted, "I am the perfect picture of a lady. Let me handle my business, and you handle… _his business_."

Rachel blushed even harder at the latinas innuendo. The thought of doing anything with Jesse's _business_ seemed pretty far out. At least in the present. She was about to say as much when Mr. Schue came into the room. She sent a silent prayer to God, thanking him for his assistance, and his brilliant timing.

Rachel was thankful to whatever spirits may be above, that a whole rehearsal went by without Finn confronting her. He had thrown her looks nonstop, looking like a kicked puppy. Thankfully, Quinn had come to her aide every time he looked even remotely likely to approach her. Santana had even fixed him with the death glare once. She felt protected, even cared for. It seemed that her liberation from Finn had paved the way for new friendships.

She mulled that over as she walked home, a slight smile on her lips. All in all, the day had been alright. Not as great as it had initially promised to be. Good nonetheless. She pulled out her phone, realizing that throughout the practice she had missed three texts from Jesse. One had an mp3 file attached to it.

 _vanmorrison_ 3_

 _In case you want to extend your memories._

Rachel quickly managed to free her headphones from the knotted mess they'd become in her pocket. She plugged them in and pressed play, holding her breath.

The familiar tune washed over here, eliciting a smile and blush by association. She quickly came to the realization that this was, in fact, the song she had been humming all morning. She relished in the brashness of the lyrics, romantic yet forward. It seemed to fit the nature of their relationship. It seemed as if he had almost planned it out. Somehow arranged for their first proper kiss to happen to this song. If that was even remotely close to being true, Rachel didn't even mind. Maybe they'd already found their song.

 _I'm going to be pretty busy this week. I have a show Saturday, and I want you to come._

Rachel bit her lip. She figured they wouldn't get to see each other every day. She had school, he had the whole rock star thing going on. But he wanted her there with him, and that had to mean something.

 _You can bring friends if you want. Let me know if you even want to come, you don't have to. But I'd like you to._

She had to chuckle at that. His other text had seemed to exude confidence, yet he had to follow it up with a more sincere, less smooth one. As if she'd miss his show. She quickly texted him back.

 _Of course I want to come. Text me the details._

The phone went back into her pocket, but not before she pushed play once more, letting _their_ song pull her in.


End file.
